


Fortune Favors the Bold

by scandalsavage



Series: 50/500 Celebratory Prompt-A-Thon [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Chains, Collars, Explicit Sexual Content, Gladiators, Harems, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Non-Sexual Slavery, Omega Jason Todd, Restraints, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, pleasure slaves, vaguely ancient Roman setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-02-01 02:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: When the Emperor decides it's time to breed the next great fighters for his gladiatorial games, rulers and nobles from across the empire and the neighboring kingdoms are invited to submit an omega to carry the undefeated champion's progeny. Honor, wealth, and the Emperor's favor are up for grabs. But the world's greatest procurer of pleasure slaves has an eye for exploiting opportunities.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Series: 50/500 Celebratory Prompt-A-Thon [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518647
Comments: 40
Kudos: 275
Collections: Jason Rare Pair Challenge





	Fortune Favors the Bold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firefright](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefright/gifts).

> The Ask: I think I'll go with 'Slade is the strongest gladiator in the arena, so it's only right the gamemakers should want to see his genes passed along to the next generation of fighters. That's where Jason, an omega specially selected from the al Ghul's harem for the task, comes in.' SladeJay A/B/O, as you can probably guess. Make it as nice or as terrible as you want ;)

Slade thinks the invitations are unnecessary.

A breeder is a breeder. It’s the sire that matters and he doesn’t see any reason to make a fuss about carrying on his line.

He is used to the fine trappings of wealth as he skirts the edges of the room like a big cat keeping an eye on its prey. The silks and gold and gems have been perks of being the best, almost since the beginning for him. Never losing a fight in the Colosseum gave him the grandest life an owned man can ask for. He likes fighting, that rush of adrenaline, the way strategy and instinct come together, the skill required. And he likes the luxuries that that skill affords him.

He could have escaped ages ago, but the way he figures, everything is a fight. Might as well be here with adoring crowds

“See anything to your liking?”

Slade takes the cup of wine his owner holds out to him with a perfunctory bow of his head. Just enough deference to meet the expectations of anyone watching. Vandal gives him a lot of slack on his lead, even more in the day to day operations where they have become almost friendly, but he still expects Slade to behave like the slave he is when they have company.

And right now, they have a lot of company.

Littered around the room are groups of richly attired people standing or sitting on piles of cushions and low chaises, eating and drinking merrily. Serving slaves move through the crowd, in their simple undyed tunics, carrying trays of finger foods and pitchers of wine and ale.

But that’s not what Vandal is asking about.

Slade’s gaze drifts back to the slightly raised dais in the middle of the room. Barely-there curtains of translucent gauzy fabric separate the soft, plush creatures on offer from the rest of the crowd.

Omegas. Not just any omegas. These are bred and trained to be ideal pleasure slaves by the great houses and neighboring kingdoms. They’re meant to be sold or gifted to nobles and kings and princes.

They’re probably not the grandest quality options available, everyone invited knew who and what the omega is for. But the current owners milling about are still trying to earn favor with the Emperor and there is no small amount of prestige offered by Slade’s domination in the gladiatorial games. And pleasure slaves for breeding are already a luxury item. So, the omegas are absolutely better than anything Slade would have gotten, even as a free man.

From what he can see, they’re all pretty, delicate things with decorative gold chains dripping from their wrists and necks, precious stones and feathers woven into their hair, lips bright with rouge, eyes smoky with kohl.

“A womb is a womb,” Slade responds with a shrug. “Can’t see why you’d go to all this trouble just for me.”

Vandal snorts and takes a sip of his wine.

“I wouldn’t. Not just for you anyway.” He claps a giant hand on Slade’s equally giant shoulder and nods at the see of aristocrats. “I like to watch them grovel. Scramble to earn my favor.”

“Of course you do.”

He keeps his voice low. It wouldn’t due for someone to overhear him speaking to the emperor as though they were peers.

“Besides,” Vandal continues conspiratorially. “Who says you’re the only one who will benefit?”

This time Slade snorts. “You expect me to share my mate?”

He’s joking. Nothing that is his is really _his_. He, and everything in his possession, belongs to Vandal Savage. Slade never expected any mate or slave he might be given to be any different.

Which is probably the reason Vandal just raises his brows, amused smile playing on his lips.

“So none of them have caught your eye, hm?”

“No. They’re all just slightly different versions of each other. I’m sure one will be as good as the next.”

Vandal frowns at that. “We are trying to replace you, Slade. You might be invincible but you’re not immortal. I want you around to train whatever you spawn. So, the most important thing is that you don’t find it difficult to perform. After that, if you don’t like the bitch, we’ll just bring it out when it’s in heat. After all, I find them all quite pleasing. They can warm my bed in the interim.”

They both take dignified sips of their wine and Slade finds himself scanning the omegas again. They’re all slim, attractive boys and girls a third his age. Which suits him fine, he guesses. The youthful part. He’s always been partial to youthful beauty and he certainly doesn’t want a crusty, used up omega his own age.

But otherwise they’re just more of the same kind of beautiful omegas flitting around the court already.

He’ll perform fine. Physically there isn’t a single objectionable thing about any of them. And Slade doesn’t have the time or privacy to get to know them beyond their pleasing appearances.

“Any will be fine,” he says. “Pick the one you like best.”

With another quick glance around the room, Slade angles his body away from the crowd and speaks softly enough he is certain only the emperor can hear him.

“Where’s the Demon? Thought you two had other matters to discuss and were using this as a way to meet without drawing unwanted attention.”

They both look up to briefly eye the representative from Gotham, making sure he is still on the other side of the room. They didn’t come with a tribute, of course. Gotham doesn’t trade in slaves. But they’re a major neighboring kingdom and relations are… constantly strained. So they keep ambassadors at all times.

“Late,” Vandal mutters without moving his lips. “Ran into trouble on the road. Should be here any min—oh… I guess he’s arrived.”

The emperor nods in the direction of the ambassador, who finds himself being approached by what Slade knows to be his favorite omega playmate in the capitol. One of the courtesans kept on staff for people with principles that don’t allow for the use of slaves.

Slade watches as the first prince of Gotham is tugged away with a playful grin on his face. The kid is pretty for an alpha but reeks of that competing dominance in a way that even Vandal doesn’t. Slade liked the first ambassador better. The second son, whose scent was earthy and fresh under a spicy cologne he always wore. Easily the the best smelling alpha Slade had ever met. Considering Slade’s preferences, he had always tried to place himself in the prince’s path.

Pity the kid went got himself killed.

It made a lot more sense on a purely political level, to have the second son act as a liaison. It’s a risk under the best of circumstances, to send the heir to another kingdom. The bad odds go up when the fate of the younger brother is taken into account, and then plummet with the fact that the two kingdoms are so ideologically different and could feasibly be at war with each other any moment.

Slade guesses that’s why he’s here. That Prince Richard is playing a dangerous game and investigating what happened to his brother.

If he’s not careful, Gotham will be down to its final heir.

“Ra’s asked that we… _distract_ Gotham when he arrived. Tiger was watching for their convoy with orders to tempt the prince somewhere more private when they finally showed.”

“Why?” Slade asks, narrowing his eyes as the main doors swing open and Ra’s al Ghul is announced. “It’s not like he’s leaving. Seems like a temporary solution.”

“I don’t know. Ra’s was light on the details. But I do love a good conspiracy against Gotham, especially the minor ones that they can’t really do anything about. And the Demon assures me that by the end of the evening it won’t matter. One way or the other.”

“That is… _too _vague. Do you trust him that much?”

Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head, strides into the room, a single _large_ manservant on his heels dragging a chained omega.

“Not nearly as much as I trust you,” Vandal rumbles low against his ear before striding off to meet the new arrivals.

Slade follows at a respectful distance, keeping his eyes and ears open while feigning disinterest. Since it’s what’s expected of him, he focuses on the omega.

The omega, presumably the one being offered, is otherwise dressed much like the ones lounging on the dais. Only his sheer green skirts are held up with a belt of leather and gold instead of another length of silk pinned together with gems. And, although he wears golden bangles around his wrists and ankles and golden serpents around his muscular biceps, the heavy steel chains that keep his limbs bound too close together to be any trouble are very obviously _not _decorative. The leather and gold collar at his throat is attached to his wrists by even more real chains, where the other omegas wear collars of lace or fine golden weaves. And none of the other omegas are wearing a _muzzle _across the lower portion of their face, even if it is covered in glinting rubies.

The boy is young, just like the others, but big for an omega. Where the others are soft curves, this one is sharp muscle. He is smaller than the Alphas in the room, but he dwarfs the other omegas on offer. His eyes are bright aquamarine, with bursts of gold around the pupil and flecks of vivid green throughout.

They’re angry and indignant and they are eerily familiar, even if Slade can’t immediately place them.

He subtly scents the air around the kid, already wrinkling his nose in anticipation of the sweet, floral scents of most omegas. Only to be pleasantly surprised to find that he smells like a forest after a storm. Something tugs at his memory there too.

Despite himself, he finds that this one has absolutely caught his eye. To the point where he’s missed the conversation between his master and the Demon until his name is spoken.

“Apologies, Master,” he says, only because everyone is watching. “I was… distracted.”

Ra’s grins at his statement, the white points of his teeth visible, like he’s won some great argument.

Meanwhile, Vandal frowns at the omega.

“I said you wouldn’t be interested in an untrained omega slave,” Vandal clarifies, narrowing his eyes at Ra’s. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d consider this an insult.”

“But you do know me better,” Ra’s answers easily with an unconcerned wave of a ringed hand. “You know I have the best harems and training in the known kingdoms. And you know I have an uncanny ability to match high value slaves with the proper Alphas. Perhaps we can speak more privately?”

“What exactly is high value about a feral, beast of an omega?” Vandal hisses as the crowd presses closer.

With a dramatic, put upon sigh, Ra’s leans in and whispers something into the emperor’s ear.

Slade watches in amusement as Vandal’s eyes go wide and he jerks back to look at Ra’s in surprise before turning to lean closer to the omega, squinting at him.

And it’s all Slade can do to stop himself from bursting out laughing when the omega jerks forward to headbutt _the emperor_.

Vandal is quick enough to evade the worst of it, but he still takes a pretty decent blow to his chin. Unsurprisingly, he lashes out with a powerful backhand that the kid almost manages to pull away from. Probably would have if it weren’t for the manservant tugging the chain and keeping him in place.

The force of the strike knocks the boy to the floor, an incensed emperor standing over him fuming. The entire room fallen into a stunned silence.

Then Savage reaches down, grabs the omega roughly by the hair and jerks him forward onto his knees, pulling the kid’s head back until his throat his bared and his back is arched painfully.

“I don’t care who you were,” Vandal says, quiet enough that only the four of them in the immediate vicinity can make out the words. “Now you’re just another bitch. And I don’t care who you _thought_ you were. You broke the rules and paid the price.”

The emperor steps forward so that the bulge in robes is directly in front of the boy’s face and holds him in place by his hair when he snarls under the muzzle and tries to pull away.

“Now you’re where you always belonged. On your knees for your alpha.”

Savage shoves him away and he falls onto his ass before the gigantic servant gets him to his feet and starts wrangling him to the dais.

Those bright eyes lock onto Slade’s single icy blue one as he’s manhandled away. There’s a _challenge _in that glare that makes Slade’s blood pump quicker and heat pool in his belly.

He follows the line of the boy’s back from a broad expanse, narrowing into a tapered waist. Only the barest, almost negligent hint of an omega’s curve at his hips.

Vandal’s words echo in his mind as he thinks that this one could very nearly pass as a small alpha. Then he’s turning back to the emperor and the demon, his own eye wide with understanding. Suddenly realizing why the kid seems so familiar.

“Well,” Vandal announces to the room, “Now that all the guests have arrived, the offerings presented, my warrior and I will adjourn for a short time to discuss his options.”

Slade gives Ra’s’ omega a final glance and follows as the emperor leads them to a side room. He’s sure no one else catches the pointed look Vandal levels at Ra’s who mutters something to the hulking beast chaining the boy to one of the pillars of the dais and disappears out the main doors.

He and Vandal stand in silence in the antechamber while they wait. Slade can’t believe the Demon had the nerve to, not only hide the omega from the emperor, but _return him to the capitol_.

It isn’t more than a minute before Ra’s slips in through hidden entry.

“You told me he was dead,” Savage snarls immediately.

“I told you I took care of it,” Ra’s says, utterly unconcerned. “And I did. Besides, he _did_ die. It was just very brief. I’m not one to waste a valuable resource.”

“Nor am I,” Vandal responds, posture and tone warming slightly. “How did you even find out he lying about his designation?”

Ra’s smirks and shrugs. “He’s a pretty boy. Seemed a shame to do away with him without having a taste. I slipped something into his wine to make him more… amorous. Everything was fairly apparent when I relieved him of his robes.”

“His _alpha _robes. What was Gotham thinking? Letting an omega participate in their own politics is one thing, but sending one here? Knowing _our_ laws?”

“You know what he was doing,” Ra’s says, pointedly. “Gotham is a problem. One we would be wise to deal with sooner rather than later.”

Vandal waves off the comment. “That’s business for tomorrow. And speaking of, I hope your large attendant is who you’ve brought for the games. Slade could use an actual challenge for once.”

Slade’s brows go up at that. He knows it’s partially posturing but of all his opponents over the years, only the al Ghul’s entrants have ever come remotely close to beating him.

“It’s your final chance, Demon,” Vandal grins. “As soon as whatever omega Slade chooses pops out an Alpha, his tenure as a gladiator officially comes to an end.”

“And have you decided, warrior?” Ra’s asks, addressing Slade directly for the first time. His forest green eyes glint knowingly.

With an annoyed huff, Vandal says, “Not your untamed, undead prince of Gotham. If I’m going to go to war with Wayne, I’d prefer to start it over something important. Not some puffed up gutter slut who thinks he deserves a voice at Imperial court just because the King of Gotham is easily swayed by a clever tongue and a sweet cunt.”

“First of all,” Ra’s says, brushing non-existent lint off his silken robes, “Just because I didn’t want to remove all the things that make him unique and interesting, doesn’t mean the boy is untrained. You will find he is most agreeable in… _other_ situations. I take great pride in my work, as you well know.”

A shiver of… anticipation runs down Slade’s spine. The flash of challenge in the kid’s eyes, _daring_ Slade to move against him; the thought that when he’s pinned, when Slade gets him on all fours and is breathing down his neck, that the omega will submit… the thought of _earning_ that obedience…

Excitement thrums through his veins.

“More importantly,” Ra’s continues without pause, “he looks different enough after my… healers, got through with him. We can all reasonably say we had no idea. But even if we did, we were well within our rights to punish an imposter in our courts. Besides, he would be legally and biologically bound to your man.”

It looks like Vandal is going to chew through his cheek as he considers the implications of what Ra’s is really offering.

“You should rejoin the others,” the emperor says, motioning to the secret entrance behind the marble statue that Ra’s had entered by. “We don’t want them thinking we’re conspiring.”

“We _are _conspiring,” the Demon quips as he moves to leave.

“But they don’t need to think it.”

“I’d make up your mind quickly,” Ra’s offers over his shoulder. “I don’t know how long the brother will be preoccupied. I would prefer to remove the omega if you aren’t going to take him rather than be forced to return him to his family. In our hands he is useful. In theirs, not so much.”

With that he disappears leaving Slade and Vandal alone to discuss.

Calculating black eyes scan over Slade, head to toe. He definitely seems to have been swayed to Ra’s’ point of view.

“Wayne won’t care that the boy is just an omega,” Vandal says carefully. “He is a sentimental man. He would never attack us with his ‘son’ in our clutches. You’re not privy to all our plans but Ra’s—”

“I’m aware the Demon’s daughter has birthed a blood-son to the King of Gotham,” Slade interrupts now that they’re alone. “Rumors spread like disease.”

He does not explain that Talia herself had confided in him during one of their… visits. If the emperor and the Demon don’t know about his _friendship_ with her, he certainly isn’t going to enlighten them.

To his credit, Savage does not look at all surprised.

“I won’t force you to choose him. This is a reward for many years of excellence in the arena,” Vandal gives him a sly smirk, “and out. It’s your decis—”

“I want him.”

Vandal blinks at his conviction. “You’re certain? The others—”

“The others are dull rocks in a field. He’s a rare jewel.”

“How poetic,” Savage scoffs. “I suppose he was a prince—”

“He was street rat who whored to survive the Gotham slums before he caught Wayne’s eye,” Slade responds evenly. Nobles tend to underestimate what they’re slaves comprehend and speak freely. And Slade won’t stand for anyone thinking the omega in the other room is above him in any way. “He’s no prince in any way that matters. It’s not that.”

Vandal searches his face for a moment before grinning. “You always do appreciate a good fight.”

He does.

And he’s definitely going to get one.

His master makes the announcement and the dais is cleared of all the other omegas who manage to mostly hide their own surprise at being passed over for the big surly one already growling behind his muzzle as Slade approaches.

A light touch on his wrist finds him looking back at Ra’s’ amused face.

“He’s gagged under the muzzle,” the Demon says. “He’s not afraid to bite if you remove it before you get him… warmed up.”

Slade looks the boy up and down, analyzing. His posture is absolutely ready for a fight. He rolls his big shoulders like a cat getting ready to pounce and it’s not at all ridiculous as the foolish people around the room seem to think it is as they chuckle at the kid’s expense. Even with his neck, wrists, and ankles chained he looks deadly. And knowledgeable. This one has been taught how to fight. He stands lightly on his feet in a way that reminds Slade of the al Ghul combatants he has faced in the past.

He glares at Slade over the ruby-encrusted muzzle, nostrils flaring.

It’s clear he knows he’s going to lose. Slade is huge and unbound, not mention a legendary fighter. But it’s clear he’s not going to go quietly.

“You _trained_ him?” Slade mutters, just loud enough for Ra’s to hear.

“Oh yes,” Ra’s answers easily. “I saw your interest when you thought he was an Alpha. Like I said, I have a special eye for matching Alpha’s to their ideal pleasure slaves.”

Ra’s leans in a little closer. “I must recommend against going easy on him. He is a stubborn bitch. He can take a beating like the toughest Alpha and just keep getting up.”

Something flutters low in his abdomen. Anticipation. Desire.

“Good,” Slade growls without taking his eyes off the omega.

The more he hears the more he _wants_. Heat is building under his skin the closer he gets to the kid.

Slade raises his hands in front of him in temporary truce. Furious eyes narrow at him in distrust.

“Jason, right?” he lets the name roll off his tongue in a quiet rumble, savoring the way it feels not to have to include an unearned title. He keeps his voice low enough that the rest of the room would have trouble hearing over the soft buzz of conversation.

The boy _snarls _at him in a baritone nearly as deep as an Alpha’s, even with the leather blocking the lower half of his face.

“This is going to happen whether you like it or not, boy,” Slade says louder, for the entertainment of the room. He steps as close as he thinks he can get before Jason lunges for him. “But I’d prefer to hear whatever noises you’re going to make without that contraption in the way. So let me take it off. Then I’ll step back and we can do this the fun way.”

The omega seems to decide that whatever he finds as he searches Slade’s face is honest. But all those muscles stay coiled, ready to defend himself if Slade makes a move.

First the muzzle gets tossed to the side, lost amongst the piles of cushions scattered across the platform.

Jason growls at him again when Slade’s eye catches on the gag stretching his lips wide. He drags his gaze up to meet the kid’s and smirks at him, letting all his desire and intent show clear as day on his face.

“I hear you bite,” he whispers as he unclasps the buckle nestled in black curls, enjoying the way Jason stiffens and pulls away slightly when Slade sniffs at the scent gland just below his ear. “Tell you what, kid. You get teeth on me and fuck you nice and gentle.”

As he pulls the gag out of the omega’s mouth, Slade only has a moment to be a little surprised that what he thought was a gaudy, golden ball carved into a demon’s head, is in fact attached to a wide length of leather-wrapped… jade? that reaches half-way down the boy’s throat.

There’s just enough time for his cock to twitch before he’s rammed into full force by an impressive wall of muscle.

Slade stumbles back a couple steps but easily stays upright, regaining his footing with little effort.

“Fuck you,” the boy spits at him, voice raspy and cracking, like he hasn’t used it in a while. Slade idly wonders how long he’d been gagged. “Let me out of these chains, coward, and we’ll see what happens and who likes it or not, rapist bastard.”

Grinning, Slade sets his feet. “Maybe next time, _princess_.” That gets a pleased chuckle from where Vandal and Ra’s stand just off the dais, watching intently, and a pissed off sneer from the omega. “You’re a pleasure slave. Couldn’t rape you if I tried, even if you weren’t _mine_.”

The kid grinds his teeth and snarls.

“Fucking backwards shithole,” he snaps. His voice is still weak from disuse. “I don’t feel your claim and you are never gonna get close enough to leave your mark.”

“Oh kid, I don’t think you realize just how much I’m going to enjoy proving you wrong.”

Without another second of hesitation, Slade leaps across the gap between them, already compensating for the way the boy expertly darts out of the way.

He grabs one of the lengths of chains as Jason tries to dance out of his reach. When the kid gets jerked backwards, Slade is ready for the way he spins but not for the way he flings his legs up and gets the chain between his ankles around Slade’s neck.

The momentum brings them both crashing heavily to the platform, but Jason initiated the move and lands on his back, already rolling over his shoulder, untangling the chains from Slade’s throat, onto his feet in an alert crouch.

Slade is vaguely aware that the crowd is a mixed of stunned silence and excited whispers. But he can’t give more than a cursory thought. The more worked up they get, the better the omega smells. Several of the gauzy scarves that make up the see-through skirt have already come loose, floating to the floor, showing off a smooth, shapely thigh and a hint of what’s between his legs.

The kid is breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down in a rhythmic motion that Slade can’t help but stare at for a moment. Pale skin is flushed rosy pink and, if he’s not mistaken, Slade can feel a light _heat _radiating off the already glistening flesh.

Jason seems to feel it or sees it in the way Slade lowers his chin, stares down his prey and licks his lips, because his eyes go wide and worried.

“Wha-what the h-hell…” the omega hisses, taking a defensive step back.

Slade takes advantage of his confusion and takes his feet out from under him with a swipe to his ankles. He falls backwards into a pile of cushions and there’s a tentative cheer from the crowd as Slade invades his space, grabs a handful of fabric, and rips it away from the leather belt like parchment. Then goes to grab the kid by the hips.

Jason manages to get his hands up at the last second and grip Slade’s wrists tightly, holding him at bay for the moment.

But Slade can feel the way the kid’s breath comes out in increasingly quick little puffs as he tries to breathe through his mouth in an attempt to minimize the effect of Slade’s Alpha scent on his sudden, forced drop into an unscheduled heat.

Some kind of drug, Slade thinks. Ra’s must have given Jason something. A slow acting aphrodisiac or some kind of heat inducement that kicks in when the blood gets pumping. It’s almost insulting but he can’t focus on that right now. Not with Jason’s scent, fast warming with heat, settling thick and delicious on his tongue. Not with the way the omega’s throat bobs as he swallows hard in growing concern.

Not with the way that blush is deepening, and his eyes are starting to get slightly distant.

Slade needs to get his hands—his _teeth_—on that throat.

Jason seems to hear his thoughts and panics. The kid suddenly surges up with a ferocious burst of strength that surprises Slade just enough that the omega manages to dig his teeth shallowly into Slade’s shoulder before Slade can adjust.

He twists his wrists in Jason’s grip until their places are reversed. Until Slade has those shackles in his grasp.

The smile that curls his lips up is victorious and hungry. He likes that when the omega realized he was at an even greater disadvantage, he hedged his bets and made a practical call.

But omegas are still not supposed to bite back. So he leans close, until their noses almost touch, and snarls his angriest, deepest, Alpha growl.

He sees other Alphas in the room cringe and twitch their heads before catching the submissive movement, out of the corner of his eye. The fact the omega beneath him raises his shoulders and tucks his chin to block his neck and bares his teeth, both excites and enrages Slade.

Gods. This close the heat is just pouring off the omega in waves.

Slade can’t control himself any longer.

And why should he?

Refusing to concede the fight already, Jason brings his legs up between them, wraps the limbs around Slade’s throat and squeezes, in a final desperate attempt.

It’s a good move and, under different circumstances, it may have been successful. It’s easy to feel the power in this kid, even as biology works against him.

Except the position brings Slade’s face dangerously close to the omega’s cunt. Only a couple flimsy green strips of fabric between him and his ultimate goal. Not nearly to enough to hide the sudden, overwhelming, scent of slick as it slips out, accompanied by a shocked gasp from the boy’s parted lips.

Slade take the opportunity to sink his teeth into the warm flesh, high on the inner thigh, just over an often overlooked scent gland near an often overlooked artery.

Jason yelps and bucks wildly, trying to dislodge him, but it weakens the grip of his thighs and Slade isn’t going to miss such an open opportunity.

It’s easy after that, to flip the omega onto his belly, tear away the rest of the insubstantial skirts, and hike the kid’s hips up into something resembling a presenting position.

Of course he keeps squirming, frantically trying to break Slade’s grip and growling back at him. Slade just tugs the chain that connect his wrists to his ankles.

With a short cry, Jason tips forward, face-planting into a cushion, as his arms are pulled under him back between his legs. Slade draws the dagger from his hip and buries in the wooden platform, pinning the links of the chains in place. All the jostling with loosen it eventually, but it should hold until he can finish.

Sitting back on his haunches, Slade admires his work for just a moment. The arch of the boy’s spine makes the curves at his hips more pronounced and it’s an enticing view. But then his eyes travel lower and he can practically taste the sweetness of the slick on his tongue as he watches it drip down the omega’s thighs and mingle with the bit of blood Slade drew with his bite.

The kid has managed to twist his head around. He’s probably trying to glare but his cheeks are flushed and his lips are bitten red and he’s panting while looking back and up at Slade with heavily lidded eyes, bright blue-green practically glowing under thick black lashes.

“W-wait,” the poor thing breathes, whole body trembling. “P-please… don’t.”

Slade keeps his own eye on fixed on that gaze as he leans in, ghosts his mouth over the boy’s left cheek on his way the mouthwatering scent between his spread legs.

No sooner does he _breathe_, hot and starving, over the glistening slit of his prize, than the body under him tenses and a long, drawn-out out, high-pitched whine pierces through the lust-thick atmosphere.

The deeply distressed sound jolts Slade back and away in surprise.

Jason seems stunned too, blinking like he didn’t realize he could do what he just did. Slade doesn’t doubt it. A strong, vicious omega like this… Slade wouldn’t be surprised if he’d never uttered a peep in distress before. Better to take the blow than show weakness.

It makes Slade wonder how many heats this one has been through.

Reaching forward, Slade wraps his hand around the back of the boy’s neck, digging his thumb and forefinger into the sensitive, swollen, scent glands just above the collar. The trembling subsides into little rolling shudders and the tension in the omega’s many muscles melts away, leaving him limp and pliable.

Slade rests his chin on the top of Jason’s ass, the curve of his neck pressed against the rounded swell of the kid’s cheek, and lets out a deep, low rumbling growl from the back of his throat to tell the omega it’s Alpha is pleased by it’s submission.

With his free hand, Slade slips his fingers between the dripping folds of the boy’s cunt and rubs along the scorching hot flesh, focusing on the little bud above his entrance. Every little motion makes the warm, aroused scent pouring of the omega thicker and headier.

It almost feels like he’s getting drunk. The rest of the room seems fuzzy along the edges, blurred and faraway.

He spends a couple long minutes just toying with the kid. Let’s his fingertip catch on his opening occasionally, dip in just enough to tease—not even to the first knuckle—before retreating to pinch and flick and massage the sensitive little button until the omega is shaking beneath him again. Just for a much better reason this time.

Slade has half a mind to just do this. To sit here for hours and just torture him. He’s making the prettiest fucking noises Slade has ever heard. Cute little cut off gasps and whimpers that he bites back, still trying to resist. Still trying to convince himself that this isn’t exactly what he’s made for, to bend over for his Alpha and take their knot.

There’s no doubt in Slade’s mind he’ll learn it eventually. And he certainly doesn’t mind taking his time.

He removes his fingers and gets a sigh of relief from below him. Waits until Jason’s eyes flutter open and find his, red-rimmed with tears clinging to his lashes, then licks the slick off each digit slowly, savoring the sweet flavor and humming when lingers on his tongue.

A hand rests lightly on his shoulder and it takes every single fiber of willpower and strength within him to not snarl protectively at the interloper.

Snapping at his master would be a problem for any slave, regardless of circumstance. Threatening the emperor would be… extremely unwise.

“You can take him apart as sweet as you want later,” Vandal hisses quietly. “But you better claim the bitch before the other one returns or I’ll take any resulting mess out of _your_ hide.”

Vandal smiles and gives him a friendly, encouraging pat on the shoulder then steps back again.

In a moment of his own rebelliousness, Slade gets a firm grip on the kid’s hips then, instead of just getting to it the way he is sure Vandal expects him to, he leans in to lap at the omega’s sopping cunt.

He drags his tongue along the outside before burying his face in the intoxicating heat and wet. Jason jerks in his hold and tries to twist away with a desperate, worried gasp that tapers off into a pleasured moan when Slade sucks on his clit.

A fresh gush of slick is his reward and Slade greedily licks it up, making sure to scrape his teeth across the increasingly over sensitive area.

“St-stop—_nngh—_please,” the boy mutters over and over again into the cushion.

Slade shoves his tongue past the omega’s entrance without warning, wriggles it around a little just to feel the kid squirm, then hooks a thick finger into him, probing deep.

“_Gah! _N-_ah-ah_… _pl-please,_” Jason cries.

But his hips cant back slightly into Slade’s ministrations and it’s unclear now if the pleading is still to stop or begging for more.

“Shh, don’t worry your pretty little head,” Slade hums as he sits back and licks his lips. “I know what you want. Don’t worry. I’ll breed you good, stuff you so full of my seed, you’ll have to clean the excess off my knot with your tongue.”

He keeps his finger inside the tight, velvety opening, swirling it around in lazy circles and watches the omega shiver and sob as its walls traitorously flex around the intrusion.

A big gulp of air doesn’t do anything to steady the sudden primal urge to mount and claim. He promised Jason he’d fuck him gently if the omega got teeth on him but Slade’s been teasing himself as much as the pleasure slave.

He rises, spreads the boy open, exposing him to the room, showing off what’s his and his alone (even if in the back of his lust-addled mind, he knows that isn’t even remotely true).

Finally he frees his own achingly hard cock, gives himself a couple strokes just to take the edge off the sensation of being touched in a controlled way, before he’s balls deep in that snug, wet heat.

Then drags the substantial length between the omega’s cunt lips—wishing vaguely that he had time to get Jason’s actual lips on him first—getting himself ready with the omega’s natural lubrication.

The head of his cock catches at the opening as he slides back and forth. Jason twitches and whines and tugs half-heartedly at his bindings. His body can’t seem to decide whether it wants to chase or escape the touch.

Fortunately, the decision isn’t up to him.

Slade lines up at the omega’s hole, taking the opportunity to circle his thumb over the tight pucker of other one, and waits out a small burst of energy as the kid suddenly thrashes in his grasp with a weak growl. Waits until the conscious part of the younger man’s mind makes its final attempt to resist. Then he lets out his own growl, deep and dark and aroused, and grins when the tension melts away from the omega and he goes completely pliant with soft mewl.

He moves his hips forward excruciatingly slowly, until the head of his cock breaches the entrance and pops in. He continues moving slowly, savoring every single inch of that smooth slide. Watching, enraptured, as the omega is stretched wide around the sizable girth of his dick; can see the kid’s hands clawing at the dais between his legs as he pants heavily.

Jason keens as Slade bottoms out, drawing a cool, calculating eye back to the flushed, sweating face to find his eyes squeezed shut. Tears streak down rosy cheeks and the kid’s mouth gapes wide as he pants through lips bloodied from where he’d bitten through them.

The sight of the ruined omega, the feel of its cunt clenching around his eager, sensitive cock, pushes Slade over the edge.

He pulls out and _hammers_ back into the boy, earning a shout of pleasured-pain that plays like music to Slade’s ears.

The little choked gasps, bitten off moans, and garbled cries are better than any drug or aphrodisiac Slade has ever tried. It hasn’t even been that long since he’s been with an omega in heat but fuck, if this one doesn’t sound and smell better than any of the whores and courtesans he’s ever so much as glanced at.

In just a handful of powerful, vicious thrusts, Slade feels his knot begin to quickly swell. He shifts his position, sitting up higher so that he can fuck down into the sobbing omega so hard it rocks the kid forward so hard his spine curves dramatically as his knees slide forward and his wrists stay pinned beneath him by the dagger at his ankles.

Just as Ra’s promised, Jason has become much more agreeable now that he’s ‘warmed up’. He lets Slade manhandle him into an even more ridiculous arch without complaint, just shifts his weight to rest more evenly on his knees and _takes it_.

“So good,” Slade grunts, leaning over the boy’s back so he can growl against his ear. “Soften you up a little and you take it like the obedient breeding bitch you were born to be.”

He aims a particularly rough thrust as deep as he can go and gets a gets a shattered cry. The snug passage around him pulses, squeezing him tighter in rolling waves.

“What would your father think if he could see you now?” The omega below him trembles violently and tries to squirm away from where Slade’s unrelenting thrusts beat against the raw, oversensitive cunt. Chasing his release, he snaps his hips in shorter motions as his knot grows and catches until it won’t allow him back out. “Just a warm body to pump full of brats. Not even the little princes and princesses you must have once thought you’d have. No, the pups I’m putting in you now will be _slaves_. The Alphas will gladiators, the omegas will be returned to the Demon to fill his harems.”

Jason’s breath comes out ragged and the wet little warble he makes at Slade’s words is the tipping point.

With a possessive snarl, the Alpha wraps one arm around the waist in front of him, the other looped under the kid’s chest and up to grip his shoulder. He pulls his omega tightly to him and spills his see deep into the boy as his knot locks him in place and his teeth latch over the scent gland exposed above the pleasure slave’s collar.

He bites hard, working into the flesh until it gives and blood and _scent_ explode over his tongue. He groans at the flavor of his mate, feeling pleasantly drunk, ecstatic about the why the evening played out.

Jason whimpers as gives one last flex of his jaw, forcing his teeth deeper, before withdrawing them to lap as the blood and aromatic oil dripping from the wound.

They still have a while before his knot goes down but he doesn’t make any effort to adjust their positions. He likes the feel of all that solid muscle gone limp and malleable under him.

Black locks of hair cling to the kid’s head. Slade reaches up with one hand to comb his fingers through the damp curls. With the other, he pinches and twists and tugs at a sensitive nipple. Smiles against Jason’s neck when he writhes and whines in protest.

Then he moves the hand in the boy’s hair back down to splay wide across the omega’s belly.

Slade’s voice is a dark, resonant growl, lower-pitched than he’s ever heard himself or any other Alpha get. The intense possessiveness heats his blood and he feels his cock twitch even though his knot still keeps them bound together. “I cannot wait to see you round and swollen with my pups,” he growls.

**Author's Note:**

> The incredible Walor wrote the Dick/Tiger cut-scene and it's fantastic so you should go read that now: Et tu, Brute
> 
> Some hints of Vandal/Slade, Vandal/Jason(/Slade), and Dick/Tiger that may come up. 
> 
> Oh and yes, Slade and Talia absolutely hooked up.


End file.
